barbed wire necklace

she sits on the creaky stairs, cold and unforgiving
with her head in her hands
as he screams from the bottom
about unfinished laundry
and unaccomplished tasks.
He won't admit 
he is unwilling to do them himself, 
but that is beside the point
she should be on top of it.
never mind she has two little ones to raise
while he sleeps during the day
because he works the graveyard shift
or that she is a little more exhausted
than her usual strength filled days
because there is new life growing inside of her.
You can almost see the searing smoke 
escaping from his nostrils
whenever the unexpected surprise is mentioned.
he hates surprises
he'd rather have the control.
He paces like a wild animal
as she sits quietly, so tired
he threatens and throws a damn good
tantrum for a grown ass adult.
she's made so many excuses for him
but her family are no fools.
they have learned to recognize the signs
and it comes as no surprise when she has to cancel
family parties at the last minute with
no explanation.
it can only mean she'd rather not deal 
with the concerned
questioning eyes
the accountability.
it's painful to watch
this sickness unfolding before us
they walk wounded and bleeding
and think a band aid will suffice.
He puts on a good looking show
with his bible verses stuffed in his back pocket
[apparently they missed his heart]
and his sharpened tongue, oh how it is sharp
it is quick to shred, disintegrate [one] to nothing.
He gives the illusion to the outside world
that he is the doting father
the pursuing husband
and she isn't far behind.
she laughs off his mockery, his demeaning behavior
like it doesn't hurt her
she says his screaming
is just him talking rather loudly.
it's normal. 
it's normal.
it's normal.
keep telling yourself that.
sickness isn't normal.
chaos and barbed wire is not a restful way to live.
but do you want to be made well?
do you really want to be well?